


there's only me, there's only you

by sseagully



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Is Sunshine, F/M, Hugs, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Is Lovely, Post-Reveal Pre-Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Pre-Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, post-reveal, they are figuring things out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:40:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26009677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sseagully/pseuds/sseagully
Summary: “Come on, Marinette, you can do this,” Marinette mutters to herself, trying to gather all the threads of her courage and weave them into something substantial, something unbreakable. “You can do this! You’re Ladybug, remember?”And he’s Chat Noir, her brain blitzes back. A near suffocating wave of nervousness and excitement washes over her at the thought.-The morning after their identities are revealed, Marinette is unsure how their first post-reveal interaction will go. There's so much they left unsaid the night before, so much she needs to talk to him about!But in the end, perhaps words aren't what's needed after all.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 56
Kudos: 280





	there's only me, there's only you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missnoodles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missnoodles/gifts).



> Happy Belated Birthday, Missnoodles! I'm sorry this is late, but I hope you enjoy this bit of fluffy prpr nonsense. It's literally 1.5k of fluff, so please don't go thinking there's a smidge of plot anywhere, haha

“Marinette? Are you awake?”

Laying in the safe cocoon of her pink bedspread, Marinette breathes deeply once, then again. She evaluates the fluttery feeling in her stomach consideringly. Is it dread at facing the unknown or excitement for what might lie ahead? Nervousness, anxiety, anticipation, joy? After the events of last night, she truly isn’t sure what to think or how to feel. 

“Marinette?”

“I’m awake, Tikki,” she calls back, bracing herself with one last large steady breath before throwing back the covers to finally face the day. 

“Good morning!” Tikki beams, floating close to lay a small peck on Marinette’s cheek. Hesitating for a moment, the kwami presses her paws together in uncertainty. “How are you feeling? Did you sleep well?”

“Good, I guess,” Marinette says as she maneuvers down the steps from her loft. “Better than I thought, at least. I thought for sure I’d be up all night after finding out — finding out that Chat Noir is actually A-A—” She stumbles on the last step, lurching forward, arms pinwheeling furiously. 

“Marinette!”

“Bahhh! I’m okay! I’mokayI’mokay!” she yells, heart pounding from her near fall. Nervous giggles erupt from her chest, completely involuntarily. 

Eyeing her with tangible concern, Tikki asks, “Are you sure? You know, it would be okay if you _weren’t_ okay. Last night was...quite a lot.”

“Last night? Pssh,” Marinette says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Last night was nothing. Like, barely anything happened! I mean, sure, I found out that Ad — that Adri —” Unbidden, her words cut off as a great heat spread quickly up to her cheeks and into the tips of her ears. 

Tikki sighs with a knowing smile. “Okay, sure, you’re _totally_ fine.” 

Marinette scowls. “Oh, hush, you.”

Sabine’s voice calls from the apartment down below, muffled but stern. “Are you awake yet, Marinette?”

“Yes, maman!” Dashing to her closet, Marinette assembles an outfit in record time; at the last minute, she decides to pull out a pale blue sundress instead of her usual capris and jacket combo. The dress cinches around her waist in a gentle embrace, lined by a big yellow ribbon that ties in the back. The skirt falls in gentle folds around her legs, playfully swishing against her bony knees.

“Wow, you look great, Marinette! What a beautiful dress!” Tikki says in admiration, zipping around her holder to appraise her from all angles. “He’s going to love it!”

“H-he?! Who he?” Marinette coughs to clear her throat. “I mean, I have no idea what you’re talking about, Tikki.” She grabs her backpack and a small white crossbody purse, beckoning her giggling kwami inside with an impatient wave.

On the verge of being late, breakfast consists of grabbing some of the pastries her parents brought up from the bakery this morning, all of which are slightly misshapen or lacking in some way, not quite cut out for prime and center placement in the display cases. After a brief hesitation, Marinette grabs two more pastries from the pile and wraps them up in a white lace handkerchief she’d painstakingly sewed herself as a practice exercise last year.

She slips them into her purse carefully, making sure not to bump into or hit Tikki. “These are not for you,” Marinette whispers firmly, then all set for the day, makes for the apartment door. As she steps outside and approaches the crosswalk, she spots the Gorilla’s car pulling up to the curbside of the school. Her heart trips into double time — no, _triple_ time — when she sees a tall boy with wild but artfully tamed blond hair stepping out of the car and onto the sidewalk. 

“Come on, Marinette, you can do this,” Marinette mutters to herself, trying to gather all the threads of her courage and weave them into something substantial, something unbreakable. “You can do this! You’re Ladybug, remember?”

 _And he’s Chat Noir_ , her brain blitzes back. A near suffocating wave of nervousness and excitement washes over her at the thought.

“H-hey, Adrien!” Marinette yells as the crosswalk light gives the pedestrian walk symbol. She sprints across the street, only half mindful of her skirt whipping around from the speed, determined to reach Adrien’s side before he hits the school doors. 

In what feels like slow-motion, his shoulders straighten and perk up at her call. He turns to face her and she is hit with the full power of his smile; it’s unlike any other she’s seen from him thus far, as either Adrien or Chat Noir. It’s a tremulous, wobbly smile — not picture-perfect or camera-ready, not cocksure or over-the-top. It’s _all_ of him, all the facets of him finally pieced together in one beautiful fleeting moment.

Instead of responding, he simply holds out his arms. Both of them, splayed wide, enough space for her to slide right in. 

Marinette briefly thinks of all the things she needs to talk to him about, all the things bubbling in her chest: the security concerns, the failsafes they’ll need to put into place. And beyond that, her feelings for a boy who once showed her kindness and vulnerability at a time when she hadn’t maybe deserved to see them, and how those had led her to turn down the heart of her friend, her partner, the one who had her back and stood side by side with her even when the whole world was against them. She had stayed up a good part of last night wondering exactly where she should start with him tomorrow, wracking her brain over and over on where to even begin.

But now she knows exactly where she needs to be.

Putting on an extra burst of speed, Marinette barely clears the hurdle of the curbside, stumbling the last few steps right into his embrace. Adrien’s arms snap shut around her instantly, like they couldn’t bear a single moment wasted with her in proximity. It feels so good, absolutely amazing, to melt into him and to feel him doing the same. They are two separate beings inhabiting nearly the same space, chests rising and falling in tandem as their grips tighten in equal measure.

Being this close to him is a marvel; she feels the shift in his body, in his muscles, a sort of visceral intuition, as he lifts her off the ground to swing them around. She can hear his low, disbelieving laughter in her ear, a secret song she never wants to share with anybody else.

“Hi, Marinette,” Adrien whispers. 

“Hi,” she whispers back.

“Marinette.”

“Hm?”

“Marinette.”

She chuckles, nestles in closer, if such a thing were possible. “What? What is it?”

“No, I —” There’s an embarrassed hint to his voice but it’s soft, rounded out with a pleased edge. “I just love saying your name and knowing exactly who I’m talking to. In a weird way, it feels like this is the first time I’ve ever really spoken to _you_ , you know?”

“Yes,” she replies simply, because she does get it and she feels the same way. Finding out Adrien is Chat Noir is a lot like being in a funhouse, seeing two mirrors in opposite directions, each showing a silhouette — only to realize in the end that it was one boy all along, the reflections merely catching him at different angles.

“Marinette?”

“Yes?"

“You’re beautiful,” Adrien says. His hand has migrated to her hair, running tentative fingers through one of her pigtails and absolutely tugging it into a lopsided mess. The other is gripping her waist, fussing with the ribbon there. “And people are staring.”

“Oh, you bet they’re staring.” Alya’s voice suddenly pierces through the bubble they’ve built around themselves; she sounds shocked and amused and eager all at the same time, which honestly, Marinette can relate.

Reluctantly, she loosens her grip on Adrien’s shoulders and begins to pull back her arms. Like a magnet though, one of her hands finds his — or maybe it’s the other way around? — and they interlock fingers, unwilling to let go entirely.

“Did you need something, Alya?” Marinette asks dryly. She is well aware that her best friend is brimming with questions, rightfully so, but perhaps that hug with Adrien had passed over some of Chat’s playfulness, because right now, Marinette wants to _play_.

“Well,” Alya says with an eyebrow raised. “I _was_ gonna drag you away and force you to answer all my questions in private like a good bestie, but I can see —” she glares pointedly at their entwined hands, “— that that’s probably not going to happen anytime soon.”

“Nope,” Marinette says, beaming. Adrien looks at her, smitten. _Smitten!_ They still have so much to talk about, but it’s almost like none of that even matters, not really. They’ll figure it out. They always do. “So you may as well just ask us now.”

Holding up a finger in the classic ‘wait’ pose, Alya takes one deep breath, then a couple more. Then she pulls out her phone and starts to record. “Are you two dating?” she asks, then immediately spits out more. “How did this start? When did it start? What changed between you two? How did my ship sail without me knowing? _What is going on_?”

Marinette giggles, feels Adrien lean into her as he chuckles. 

“And,” Alya says dryly, “what exactly is so funny?”

“I-I have no idea.” _To any of it._ Marinette laughs. She elbows Adrien gently. “Do you?”

“N-no clue,” he replies breathlessly around his own laughter, squeezing her hand. “But I can’t wait to find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler alert: Marinette goes to give Adrien the pastries she grabbed for him only to find that a certain kwami had eaten them all...Thanks Tikki!
> 
> I tried to kind of model this after the Chat Blanc scene in the alternate timeline when Marinette just runs straight into Adrien's arms at school, because that part is hands down my favorite.
> 
> I hope this brought a smile to your face, Noodles! <3 And to everyone else, I hope you enjoyed as well! 
> 
> I met the wonderful [Missnoodles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missnoodles) (she is also a very gifted writer, you should definitely check her fics out) via the Miraculous Fanworks discord server. If you have any interest in meeting other MLB fans/writers/artists/readers/etc., then please consider joining [Miraculous Fanworks discord server.](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks)
> 
> See you all next time!


End file.
